


The Courting of the Krynn

by yfere



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, More tags to be added as story progresses, canon what-the-fuck-ergent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:47:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18880015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yfere/pseuds/yfere
Summary: In a zany alternate universe, Jester and Caleb plot to stop a war and save the world by co-authoring a highly successful historical romance novel/porn fanfiction. Which may or may not be based loosely on one monk, and one Queen. Beau...does not know how she feels about this.





	The Courting of the Krynn

**Author's Note:**

> This is it, the start of the fic I have been hoping and dreaming to write for this fandom for A While Now. I haven’t outlined….a plot, exactly, but there are Ideas, and all of us together will discover how they fit together, yeah?

When Beau returned to their room in the Dim’s Inn, having freshly hosed the I-guess-it’s-a-grave- _now_ mud from her clothing, it was to find Jester still awake, eyes red-rimmed.

Well, not red-rimmed exactly. Jester had been teaching her about color theory lately— _you have to pick the color you **actually** see Beau, not the one you think should be there_—and in the green dim light and on her light blue—no, indigo in this light skin, it was more like a dark purple sort of bruising, her nose flushed the same. Bad news, no matter the color.

“You all right, Jes?”

Fuck, and that was the wrong thing to say, she knew it as soon as she watched Jester straighten and beam, with such a sudden jolt of movement it reminded her of the rats they used to electrocute in the Cobalt Soul laboratories, before the equipment was sabotaged. By someone, they couldn’t prove who.

“I’m fine, Beau!”

“Right.” She let the silence drag, hoped it felt uncomfortable enough. “You remember that time, on the ship, when I said—”

“Oh. That’s right.” The smile flickered, died. Then, in another flurry of activity, Jester rummaged around in her pink—no, magenta haversack and threw a familiar book on the edge of the bed— _The Courting of the Crick_. “I was just reading the end again, and it’s so _sad_ , Beau, it’s really not fair how it ended and she didn’t deserve that at _all_ , you know?”

_So, three things. One, you never put things you take out of the haversack back in until we’re leaving in the morning and I bug you about it. There’s no way you put the book away after finishing it if you were reading it. Two, you didn’t cry at the ending the last time you read it, you were angry and I remember you were angry because you threw the book at the wall and challenged me to a duel when I said I saw the ending coming a mile away and it made sense. Three—that’s the tone you always use when you’re lying._

Probably wouldn’t do much good to say any of that, though. Whatever was up, Jester didn’t want to tell her. It was fine. It was whatever.

“Yeah, it was bullshit,” Beau said, flopping onto the other side of the bed. “They should have killed off the General too, he was the one harboring an enemy of the state, right? I don’t think he even loved her. He moved on way too quickly after she died.”

“I think so—too.” Jester was getting sniffly, and Beau turned to her in surprise. She reached a hand out—and this was okay, this was them—and put a hand on her arm. Jester took a shuddering breath. “But maybe that’s how all people are, you know? Maybe they _say_ that they love you, but really they don’t care at all and they can move on like nothing—ever—happened—”

Beau realized with a sudden bolt of terror that she'd walked into something terrible, and she didn’t know what. “Whoa. Okay. So, uuuuuuuuhh I’m **_not_ **an expert on love, and I’m not going to say you’re wrong—” she thought of Keg’s letter, the uncertain promise of a one night stand, “—but don’t you think you’re being a little hasty, here? Painting all relationships with the same brush?”

Jester coughed a laugh. “That’s a good one.”

“Thanks, I’ve been holding onto it. But, I mean, I don’t think your mom would just move on if something happened to you? And I—we wouldn’t either. You feel me? So that’s seven people at least who don’t fit that description.”

“Don’t be silly. Nothing _would_ happen to me,” Jester said thickly. “I’m super strong. It’s my job to bring _you_ all back to life.” She patted Beau’s hand, and Beau withdrew, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was talking about romance, but I think maybe you’re right, maybe. Thank you, Beau.”

The way she said it, Beau wasn’t sure whether Jester believed her at all, or if she just wanted Beau to feel good about the conversation. “No, thank you.” _For what?_ “For looking out for us. Anyway, we can agree that the author is a sack of shit, right? Why should we agree with his version of love when he was wrong about fucking everything else?”

“That’s true, his book wasn’t very accurate. The Dynasty is a lot nicer than he said it was.”

“I’m pretty sure the only cannibal here is Caduceus.”

“Does it count if it’s just tea, though?”

“Maybe not.” Beau paused, staring up at the ceiling—not white, but a grey-green gradient. This one was a risk. “Maybe that’s the thing with books though. They’re not like the real thing, not really.”

Jester yawned, and burrowed farther into the sheets. The high thread count was a good choice, it seemed. “I don’t know, I think they _could_ be, at least the ones with happy endings. I think things are better that way, you know? Like what if—” she stopped, suddenly going rigid at Beau’s side.

“What?”

“I have an _ideeeeaaaa_.” It was sung to the I’ve-planned-a-prank tune, and it told Beau that things were all right again, for the moment. “I’ll tell you in the morning. We have to sleep!”

Beau ignored the swooping feeling in her stomach and shut her eyes. This was good, she thought. She didn’t have to think about Waccoh, the library, the looming question of Dairon. She could just imagine whatever Jester was planning on telling her in the morning, instead.

She knew it was going to be good.


End file.
